I looked down at the pictures again and tried to imagine what Abbott’s 2.0 would look like. How we would renovate the halls to ensure Stephanie’s safety without the building feeling like a cage. And what would a real partnership with people who respected my opinions be like?
“Partners means you wouldn’t have to worry about us bailing,” Ralph added. “And we don’t want much, five percent each, because we can’t help with much financially, but we’ll put our blood, sweat, and tears into this place if you let us.”
I looked at each of them, my heart pounding with a determination that burned hotter with every second. Theywanted this, possibly even more than I did. “Mara’s on board too?”
“Yes!” her voice said, carrying through the fabric of Cam’s front pocket shirt. He pulled out his phone and shrugged.
I laughed for the first time in days. The Inn needed so much work, but Cam’s brother was a contractor with a great reputation. He would get the job done. If my team could keep this bar functioning in my absence, I could cover everything monetarily. The plan was crazy and half-cocked, but I loved it.
“Okay, team. Let’s make it happen.”
HOLLY
Iwas a coward.
It wasn’t easy to admit, but the truth sat heavy in my chest as I refreshed Liam’s Instagram page for the third time today. His posts hadn’t changed all week—just the same blurry photo of Cam, his line cook, flipping burgers behind the bar grill, and a close-up of a perfectly poured tequila with an orange slice on the glass’s rim, paired with a caption that made me ache:Missing something today, but the show goes on.
The comments were playful, filled with inside jokes from regulars and a handful of strangers saying they’d order one tonight… even though for some of those people their tonight was three nights ago. But no one knew what I knew—Liam posted that for me. Possibly as an olive branch since I’d ignored every call and text he’d sent. What started as a flood of communication on day one had trickled into a single text every day or so. I knew they’d stop altogether if I didn’t do something soon.
The potential abandonment hurt in ways I didn’t know were possible. It had been two weeks since I ran and the ache of leaving hadn’t dulled. It wasn’t just guilt—it was something else. Something primal. Something terrifying.
Our bond.
The ugly truth that we were soulmates.
Even thinking the word made my heart race in anI might puke then pass outsort of way. The idea of one person being destined for me should’ve felt romantic. Magical even. But it was suffocating. To love someone so deeply meant giving them the power to destroy you. I never wanted someone to have that kind of control over me. I wanted love, but I wanted the freedom to walk away if we grew apart. I wasn’t sure that was possible for us because my magic complicated things.
Still, ignoring Liam was probably the hardest thing I’d ever done, which was why I’d blocked his number and deleted it from my phone. The temptation to call him was too strong.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t low-key creep on him.
I swiped the screen and switched from his personal account to Abbott’s business page. Liam had updated the hours and made a post about exciting changes on the horizon. Nothing specific about the bet, but knowing him, he was probably working on plan B—a new Abbott’s. Guilt rocked me to my core. I said I’d help him get things off the ground and here I was hiding. I was a terrible person.
A knock on my door startled me out of my guilt-ridden thoughts. Every instinct warned me to ignore it. Liam hadn’t popped by yet, which was surprising considering how our friendship started. He was so determined to be a part of my life that I half expected him to show up the day after I ran and demand an explanation. He never came. It didn’t mean he still couldn’t or that I was ready to face him if he were at the door, but I just thought… I sighed. I didn’t know what I thought. Or wanted.
“Holly, open up,” Dahlia’s voice called from outside. “I’ve got pizza and wine, and I’m not leaving until you let me in.”
A strange feeling shot through me. I was both relieved and disappointed she wasn’t Liam. I teasingly groaned loud enoughfor her to hear, got up, and opened the door. Dahlia breezed past me, balancing a pizza box in one hand and holding a bottle of wine in the other. She went straight to the living room, set them on the coffee table, then proceeded to scold me. “You’ve been ghosting everyone for almost two weeks now. What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, crossing my arms. This wasn’t Dahlia’s job. I was the mother hen of the group. I kept everyone’s life on track, not her. My track may be a little messy right now, but everything that mattered was still moving forward. She didn’t need to come and do… whatever this was.
“Right.” Dahlia walked into my kitchen and grabbed two glasses. She then popped the cork on the wine and poured. “Care to explain why you’ve been ignoring everyone? And don’t give me some bullshit excuse about work.”
I took the outstretched glass and sank onto the couch. The move was risky, but my dark cushions had hidden more than one accidental spill over the years. I stared at the hazy pink liquid like it held the answers to my problems. For anyone wondering, it did not. I tried soul-searching in a bottle of wine twice now and discovered that I had turned into the kind of girl who may or may not have driven past Abbott’s to see if Liam’s car was in the parking lot.
“I needed time to think.”
“Think about what?” Dahlia grabbed a slice of pizza and sat next to me. She chewed on a cheesy bite, casually waiting for me to bare my soul.
I hesitated. Dahlia might’ve been my sister and closest friend, but this? This was too raw, too personal.
“Liam,” she said after finishing nearly half her slice while waiting for me to answer. She tossed what was left on the cardboard box and leveled her gaze on me. “This is about Liam, isn’t it?”
My heart skipped a beat. Was I that transparent? I didn’t think I looked heartbroken. I’d showered, shaved, and even made a point to style my hair. I didn’t have much experience with broken hearts, but every time Autumn got dumped she looked like hell. Matted hair, blotchy skin. The same sweatpants and t-shirt for days. Plus, the baking. We’d have to intervene and take all of her flour and sugar away, or else she’d gain ten pounds.
I thought I looked fine. Because I was fine. I traded my wine for pizza and shot Dahlia a look that saidsee, I’m fine,but stupidly said, “I don’t want to talk about Liam.”
Dahlia narrowed her eyes but didn’t press. Instead, she picked up her slice of pizza and chewed thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, “I met him, you know. At the bar on St. Patrick’s Day.”
